


I'm So Tired

by thefooliam



Series: (I've Got To Admit) It's Getting Better [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2012-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:56:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefooliam/pseuds/thefooliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't want to waste the last day and a half we have left to be goofy with each other by spending it sleeping."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm So Tired

Brittany's trying to wake up again half an hour later when Kurt walks back into the living room, sans Rachel. Santana glances to look at him as he wanders in and can't wipe the huge smile off her face when she feels Brittany sinking deeper into her as her fight fails. She continues to stroke her fingers at the back of her neck, even though she knows it's probably not helping.  
  
She sees Kurt out of the corner of her eye, picking up trash from the carpeted floor and taking the decorations from the wall. He seems to be paying no attention, but she can feel his eyes on her still as she watches Brittany in her sleep.  
  
“We'll be out of your hair soon,” she says softly, in a whisper. “Just as quickly as I can get this one to stay awake for more than five minutes.”  
  
Kurt snaps his head around to her and smiles. He shakes his head when she looks up at him and waves off her words.  
  
“Don't worry about it,” he says kindly. “Take as long as you need; we're in no rush today.”  
  
Santana nods and looks back to Brittany, even though she knows Kurt is still watching. “She never was any good at waking up. She always has to set her alarm for five am on school days, just in case.” Her other hand pulls the covers up around her back and snuggles them around her bare arms. “She had a lot of champagne too, so she'll probably need a while to sleep that off.”  
  
“It's no problem,” Kurt says again. “Blaine's the same. He was sprawled across my bed with his head in the pillow the last time I saw him.”  
  
Santana nods. “Apparently I'm her pillow.”  
  
Brittany takes that moment to mumble in her sleep, something that sounds like “water” – or maybe “French toast”-- Santana doesn't really hear, the words muffled against her shoulder.  
  
Kurt comes to stand beside them and giggles. “Rachel and I are gonna get the house back in order first but, after that, we're gonna make brunch,” Santana looks up at him in time to see him shrug. “You're more than welcome to stay.”  
  
Santana can't stop the way her eyes widen a little, but then she nods before he can take the offer back and smiles as Kurt returns to the kitchen.  
  
//  
  
It takes another forty minutes of Santana laying there stroking her hair but, slowly, Brittany starts to wake up. She groans, low and soft, barely unwrapping the sleep from her body before she tightens herself back around Santana.  
  
Her body rolls entirely on top of her, face buried in her chest. Santana laughs but holds her still, even as Brittany's hands reach up to rest on her boobs.  
  
“You okay?” she whispers softly, kissing her temple, unable to mask her amusement.  
  
Brittany groans again and Santana can feel her pouting. “My head hurts,” she half mumbles, half whimpers. Santana doesn't pause and moves her hand up to press it against the back of her skull to protect her and urge the pain away. “I don't like champagne,” Brittany decides quickly. “I think it's got too many bubbles.”  
  
Santana nods and hums in agreement. “Definitely too many bubbles.”  
  
“I feel like I've eaten a teddy bear.”  
  
Santana strokes her hair some more. “You want me to get you some water?”  
  
Brittany tries to shake her head but changes her mind quickly when she notices how much it hurts. It makes something in Santana's chest ache a little and she holds her closer, keeping her head still, the other hand reaching up to join the first.  
  
“Can we just lay here for a little longer?” she says quietly. “Do you think Kurt will mind?”  
  
Santana smiles and kisses the crown of Brittany's head. She loves that she's not lying when she says, “I think it'll be okay.”  
  
//  
  
“Look who's awake!” Rachel practically shrieks the next time she comes into the living room.  
  
Santana clicks her tongue at her, scowling as she moves her hand to cover Brittany's ear not pressed to her chest when she winces. Still, her voice is surprisingly calm when she says, “Wanna be any louder, Berry?”  
  
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Rachel says and Santana rolls her eyes at the way her whisper still sounds like a normal person talking. “What's wrong?”  
  
“Hangover,” Santana explains.  
  
“From the champagne?” Santana nods and Rachel's face falls with sympathy. “I'll go see if Kurt has a Tylenol or something.”  
  
Santana opens her mouth to speak, but then she closes it again. She feels awkward when she calls Rachel's name as she's wandering back out into the kitchen.  
  
“Could... could you get her a glass of water too?”  
  
//  
  
Kurt wanders in next and Santana would normally yell if she didn't feel like she was imposing so bad. He brightens a little when he sees Brittany's awake but just smiles and carries on around them like they're not even there.  
  
Santana's kind of confused why she cares so little about him seeing them like this. She still feels nervous when she knows people can see them holding hands. Kissing her in front of people was like climbing her own personal Everest. Allowing her friends, these people that were so easy to judge her for her actions, to see her at her most vulnerable shouldn't be something that they're seeing so soon, but she just can't find it in herself to care.  
  
“Is it okay if I take these quilts back upstairs?” Kurt asks. “I don't know how you're not sweltering under all these.”  
  
Santana nods and Kurt smiles appreciatively before he begins to drag the covers off of them. It isn't until she feels the fabric moving over her bare legs that she accidentally jolts Brittany when she grabs to keep the last quilt covering their legs.  
  
Kurt looks at her questioningly and a little like she's crazy. Santana's cheeks burn and she opens her mouth to explain but she struggles to find a way to without revealing that they might have had sex on his living room floor the night before.  
  
“Santana?” he says gently. Santana continues to open and close her mouth like a fish, looking around for help which she finds in Brittany suddenly looking up at her and giggling.  
  
“We're not wearing any pants,” she says proudly and pointedly as she turns to Kurt. His face flushes awkwardly as Santana winces a little. “We sleep better that way,” she continues before he can get any (completely accurate) ideas.  
  
That seems to placate his concerns. “I'll... I'll let you deal with that then,” he says before leaving quickly.  
  
//  
  
Kurt's parents must have like super expensive heating bills because, Kurt was right. This house is almost unbearably hot. It feels like, if anything, the mountain of quilts kept  _out_  the heat in the house. Sweat instantly starts dripping down Santana's spine and she tugs at the thickness of her flannel pajama pants because it feels like they're suffocating her legs.  
  
Brittany just shakes her head and takes her own back off again and shoves them in her bag before following Santana into the kitchen in her nothing but her panties and t-shirt.  
  
It's no cooler than the rest of the house.  
  
“Jeez, Kurt. You trying to cook us or something?”  
  
Kurt turns, his eyes widening at Brittany's attire before he shakes his head.  
  
“Finn did it,” he explains and, really, it's all that needs to be said. She nods as Kurt waves to the table that's now devoid of the TV set and set out ready for a ten person brunch. “We shouldn't be too long,” he says, “We're just waiting on the boys to get up and help with the furniture and I'll start cooking.”  
  
Santana feels weird but right when she says, “I could... I could help you cook if you wanted.”  
  
Kurt just shakes his head at her like it's nothing. He's too busy stuffing more trash into bags to do anything else. “It's okay,” he says. “I've got it. There's coffee in the pot if you want it, juice in the carton and a painkiller on Brittany's plate for her headache.”  
  
Santana looks at Brittany to see if she's noticing anything weird, but she's too busy reaching for the juice with no pulp and slipping the pill into her mouth.  
  
//  
  
She's uncomfortable with how comfortable it is. She sits beside Brittany at the table as Kurt wordlessly flips on the TV sat on the counter and hands them the remote. Sitting beside Brittany in her pajamas at Kurt's kitchen table feels like something she'll be doing for a long time, completely normal and acceptable.  
  
Quinn is first downstairs, perfectly dressed in clean clothes and looking pissed off as hell. She falls into the seat on the other side of Santana and glares at Puck as he wanders downstairs, before getting dragged into the living room with Rachel and Kurt. Santana chuckles when she hears Quinn mumbling about him under her breath.  
  
Tina and Mike join them, hair in disarray as Tina steps over to sit with them at the table while Mike wanders into the living room to where Kurt and Rachel are already bossing Puck around.  
  
“Morning, ladies,” Blaine nods to them as he skips happily into the kitchen. Brittany and Tina wave as Santana nods, and he takes a sip of coffee from Kurt's mug sat on the counter before leaving too.  
  
Minutes later, Finn falls into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. He doesn't seem shocked to see them. “Where's breakfast?” he asks to none of them in particular just as Rachel calls his name.  
  
Santana smirks and drinks her coffee, barely confused by the weird comfort that chips away at the awkwardness mellowed out inside of her.  
  
Brittany silently ignores everything around her to watch the Tom chase Jerry on screen, reaching silently for Santana's hand beneath the table, and yeah... She could definitely get used to this.  
  
//  
  
Soon, they're all sat around the table, laughing and joking as Kurt slips on his apron and begins cooking them brunch. No one seems to have any problem with Brittany's choice of cartoon and she, Mike, Puck and Finn laugh out loud every so often at the TV while Santana, Quinn and Tina talk with Blaine about a music documentary they all happened to catch last week. Rachel buzzes around trying to be involved in all three things at once.  
  
“So, if brunch is breakfast and lunch... can an afternoon snack between lunch and dinner be linner?” Brittany asks suddenly. “Or dunch... dinch... lunner?”  
  
Santana giggles and squeezes her hand. Finn seems to ponder the question.  
  
“I think it can be whatever you want it to, Britt,” Blaine says as he returns to the table with a fresh pot of coffee. “I'm sure the only thing you'll be calling Kurt's omelets is 'wonderful', though,” he assures.  
  
Santana turns to her and waits for yet another confused rant about eggs but all Brittany does is shrug. “I don't know,” she says. “Santana makes a pretty mean omelet.”  
  
“She does?” Blaine says quirking an eyebrow. “That sounds like a challenge.”  
  
Not five minutes later, she's engaged in an omelet making duel with Kurt Hummel.  
  
//  
  
“There's no way you would have won that if I wasn't classy enough to keep cilantro and jalapeno peppers in our kitchen,” Kurt grumbles.  
  
Santana giggles and watches as they all demolish what's on the plates in front of them. “Just accept that you suck at omelets, Hummel,” she teases. “These cinnamon rolls are awesome, though.”  
  
“They're low fat,” he informs her. She laughs a little.  
  
“Don't ruin it.”  
  
He rolls his eyes and lifts the coffee pot up. “More?” he asks, only needing her nod and half the table to lift their cups, to begin pouring.  
  
“Can I have more juice?” Brittany asks, lifting her hand from where it holds Santana to pass Kurt her glass.  
  
Her left hand just so happens to wave itself in front of both Kurt and Rachel's faces. Santana's already sipping on her coffee and and eating her eggs when she hears their booming voices exploding together.  
  
“WHAT IS THAT!?” they both scream at once. The mere sound of it throws anyone in the near vicinity back into their chairs at the shrillness. Finn actually almost falls backwards off his chair.  
  
Santana clutches at her ear, blinks her eyes as she tries to make sense of what the hell is going on around her. Everyone else seems to be clutching their ears while Brittany, dejected and confused, puts her glass back down onto the table.  
  
“I just wanted some juice,” she mumbles as Kurt and Rachel clamber around the table to reach her. They manage to intercept Brittany's hand as Santana tries to take hold of it again, clutching it between them as they stare at something. Santana's stomach jumps a little when she remembers what they're looking at.  
  
“Is that a blue sapphire?”  
  
“Are those  _diamonds_ ?!”  
  
“Is it white gold or silver?”  
  
“I think it might be platinum...”  
  
“I think we're ignoring the bigger picture here,” Kurt says lowly. “ _Where_  did you get this?” he hisses.  
  
“I...”  
  
“You weren't wearing it last night,” he accuses and Santana's too busy looking at her plate to catch Brittany's confused face looking at her. “I judged and logged every item on your body the minute you both walked in.”  
  
“I...” she starts. “Santana gave it to me last night...”  
  
“Wait,” Quinn says from beside her. “You gave Brittany a ring?”  
  
Santana's eyes go wide as her cheeks go pink. “I...”  
  
“An expensive looking ring, by the looks it,” Blaine smiles kindly. Santana looks from one face to another as they all stare at her. Even Puck and Finn have looked up from their plates to see what's going on.  
  
“I wondered why you were looking at rings,” Finn blurts. Santana sinks down in her chair, ready to kill him or die.  
  
Rachel claps her hands together. “You took Finn with you?!” she says excitedly. “That's so exciting!”  
  
“We just ran into each other,” she whispers to herself, unable to be heard through the excitement. Brittany must feel how uncomfortable she is because she pulls her hand away and takes the locket around Santana's neck from beneath her shirt and points at it. “  
  
“I got Santana a locket,” she says, quickly. “It's from Tiffany.”  
  
“From  _Tiffany_ !” Rachel and Kurt scream, grabbing them both. Brittany brightens, thinking her diversion has worked but then –  
  
“Are you two getting  _married_ !”  
  
Santana opens her mouth and waves her hands redundantly. Everyone around them just looks at where Kurt and Rachel grip at the precious metals attached to their bodies. Santana couldn't find the words if she wanted to but Brittany forces Rachel to let go of her hand while Kurt still holds the locket alarmingly tightly in his fingers.  
  
“I always thought Santana wasn't a ring person,” Rachel nods adamantly above the awkward silence. “What a lovely way to shake up the tradition!”  
  
“No, no,” Brittany shakes her head. “It's not like that... it's... we're not getting married... It's just a ring. It's just a locket. We're not getting married.”  
  
Santana's brow furrows a little at her words and her heart sinks a little at Brittany's words. She looks over at the ring on Brittany's finger and wonders if she understood what Brittany was saying last night. Everyone looks at her as she does, waiting for her to tell them that Brittany's right.  
  
“Isn't that right, Santana?” Brittany says and Santana can hear the nerves. “You just... you just got me a ring.”  
  
Santana feels like she should agree but, she doesn't want to at the same time. There's something nagging inside of her instantly that thinks about all the things she imagined when she leaned over a glass case and said “that one” and only one of them was how that giant blue sapphire was going to look on Brittany's finger. The ring was a stepping stone to something bigger and she thought Brittany got that.  
  
It's got to be all this sudden comfort she feels around her friend that has her sheepishly shrugging. Brittany's eyes narrow a little and she forgets everything around her to look at Santana carefully.  
  
“It's...” she shakes her head. “It's not just a ring.”  
  
Brittany's eyes widen but she doesn't say anything. They just stare at each other in the midst of their friends' stares and try to work each other out without words. It's kind of hard to when Rachel Berry squeaks impatiently and asks, “then what is it?!”  
  
Santana looks up at her and shrugs. She looks back down at her plate, hands in her lap, as she speaks. “I just... I wanted you to know that I'm serious now,” she explains, words quiet as her chin practically tucks into her chest. “I thought you got that when I gave it to you. That's why I put it on that finger. I'm not proposing to you yet and... I probably won't for a while, but that ring is holding a place for when I do.”  
  
“It is?”  
  
Santana looks up and glances around at their friends. “Yeah,” she nods and nervously laughs a little. “You deserves diamonds, and... I can't give you diamonds yet but it's a promise that I will. It's a promise I'll work hard to get you everything you deserve.”  
  
Brittany has that same look as last night, the same one she had when Santana was sure she understood. Seeing it again makes her a little nervous and she's about to ask if Brittany gets what she's saying now when Brittany leans over quickly and presses a kiss to her lips.  
  
It's nothing compared to other kisses, but it still lingers. Santana hears Puck start to whoop before the sound is cut off quickly by Quinn, Tina and Mike simultaneously hitting him in the stomach to stop him. Brittany pulls back a little after a moment and looks at her guilty.  
  
“Sorry,” she whispers. “I couldn't help it.”  
  
Santana shakes her head and she darts her eyes away quickly before she forgets where she is and just keeps kissing her. Just as expected eight pairs of eyes look at her softly, proudly, and she wants to glare but all she can do is shake her head a little.  
  
But Kurt is still there, ass resting on the edge of the table beside her plate. He picks up the locket around her neck and she watches as he runs his thumb over Brittany's engraved initials.  
  
“Has it got a picture in it?” he asks suddenly.  
  
Santana narrows her eyes and can't believe she didn't think to check that. She darts her eyes at Brittany as she mumbles out an, “I don't know.” She's ready to check when Brittany's hand reaches up to stop her.  
  
“I wouldn't,” she whispers with a secret smirk. It's secret enough that it doesn't intrigue Kurt but makes him feel awkward. Santana is, though, and her eyes narrow as Brittany runs her lips together to stop herself from grinning any bigger.  
  
“Later,” she says with a wink.  
  
Santana can't wait to get the hell out of here.  
  
//  
  
Brittany tries to help Kurt with the dishes until she almost breaks a plate and he sends her away. Santana doesn't know when is appropriate to leave things like this, so she lets Brittany sit on her lap, lips pressed to her forehead, as she watches Kurt, Quinn and Tina finish up the job while the boys watch TV in the living room.  
  
She'll leave when Brittany tells her she wants to. She knows how much she likes things like this and that she likes them to last as long as possible. So she just rides it out quietly and finds that it's a lot easier with her arms wrapped around Brittany's waist as Brittany toys with the locket around her neck.  
  
But when she feels Brittany's body begin to sag again, she jerks because the sudden amount of wait on her shoulders makes her unsteady. She tries to look up but she can't quite see anymore.  
  
“She's asleep,” Quinn whispers from across the room. Santana hears the words at the same time she feels the first drip of saliva against her neck and smiles. “Wait here,” Quinn says softly. “I'll go get your stuff and you can get her home.”  
  
Santana nods but calls Quinn back.  
  
“Could you bring me her pants?”  
  
Quinn just smiles.  
  
//  
  
Brittany's wide awake and bouncing to the radio by the time they get halfway back to her house. Santana laughs because, if the drool patch on her shoulder wasn't still drying beneath her coat, she'd think she was sneaky enough to plan it.  
  
Leaving Kurt's also leaves her own exhaustion to fall heavily on her shoulders and she's pretty sure the only reason she's not blacking out at the wheel is because Brittany's in the car and she's singing to the radio louder than a person probably should do. Still, her limbs ache like they're filled with a poison only sleep is the antidote for. The clock on the dash tells her that it's only just turned one in the afternoon. She's  _exhausted_ .  
  
She's glad when they get to her house and walk up the driveway to find it empty . She's even more glad when she finally trudges upstairs to her bedroom and falls backwards onto the bed.  
  
For the first time ever, she's not so glad when Brittany tugs her to the edge by her thighs and lifts them up so she can peel away the pajama bottoms she's still wearing. She whimpers at every single kiss Brittany litters up her legs as she makes her way up her body to kiss her.  
  
“Britt Britt,” she whines lowly. Brittany's head is up her shirt, kissing at what flesh of her breasts spills from her bra, and she hates herself when she pulls her back out from beneath it. She kisses Brittany slowly before blond hair spills around them.  
  
“What?” Brittany smiles, wiping her own saliva from the corner of Santana's mouth.  
  
“Can we just...” she starts but then she changes direction. “Britt Britt, it's not that I don't love you – you're my whole damn world – it's just,” She trails off when Brittany rolls her eyes happily and starts kissing at her neck, sucking at her pulse. “Britt Britt,” she whimpers. “I'm  _tired_  and I don't want to fall asleep when you're trying to give me an orgasm.” Brittany bursts out laughing, forehead pressed to her chin. “It's not funny! That would be rude!”  
  
Still, she's smiling, her cheeks feel like they're a rosy warm pink and Brittany's laughing at her like she's the best thing in the world, even though she just told her no. She kisses Brittany's forehead and nudges her up to look at her. Brittany settles her body over her then and Santana knows she's won. Hands stroke her hair from her face and her eyes flutter closed at the feel of warm fingers touching her skin as gentle as a breath. She pouts because she doesn't want to say no, but she doesn't want to fall asleep and waste Brittany's efforts, either. “Can I have a nap first?”  
  
Brittany smiles and nods. Santana doesn't have to do a thing as Brittany lifts her body until it's against her pillows and tugs the covers around them. Brittany wraps her body around Santana's and Santana doesn't realize she's asleep until she's dreaming.  
  
//  
  
“Pretty girl... oh, pretty girl... it's time to wake up...”  
  
Santana's eyes flutter and she sighs. A laugh fills her ears but she's not ready to open her eyes and see the beautiful person that will undoubtedly be hovering above her. A nose nudges hers and she whines a little, needing contact against her body as her hands blindly search out Brittany to hold her against her.  
  
Brittany giggles and grabs her hands to stop her. She lifts them until they're beside Santana's head on the pillow, her entire body grinding down against her quickly before pulling away. Santana arches up at the contact, her eyes fluttering open softly to glare at her.  
  
It's really hard to do that when Brittany's leaning down to suck on her top lip.  
  
“Stop pouting,” she whispers. “You'll get stuck like it one day and I'll miss your smile.”  
  
Santana smiles in response.  
  
Brittany grins. “That's better,” she chuckles before she leans down and kisses her slowly, drawing the feelings out like she's bleeding them from her. It becomes unbearable quickly, not having anything to hold onto but Brittany's hands. She squeezes them until her knuckles go white and she's panting, desperate to be grounded properly.  
  
She pulls away, desperate for breath.  
  
“What...” she pants. “What time is it?”  
  
Brittany's too busy sucking at her neck to answer and Santana finds she doesn't care when one hand releases hers and makes light work of drifting up under her shirt to rest over her breast. A thumb teases her nipple and she lets out a shaky breath at the feel.  
  
“About six,” Brittany says when she lifts her head to look at her, pushing her hair back from her face in a way that makes heat pool between Santana's legs way too quickly. “Are you hungry?”  
  
Brittany sits up until she's sat on Santana's pelvis. Santana narrows her eyes confused because... she was sure that things were heading in  _that_ direction but now she's not so sure. “What?”  
  
Brittany smirks and Santana scoffs silently because  _damn she's sneaky._  
  
“Your parents left you money on the counter in the kitchen,” Brittany tells her. “So, I ordered pizza.”  
  
Santana smiles and lets her hands move to rest on Brittany's thighs. She gets her own back a little when she lets her fingers drift up too high and move in too close. Brittany's spine fails her and buckles at the sensation, forcing her to steady herself with two hands against Santana's thighs behind her.  
  
“What pizza did you get?”  
  
“Pepperoni,” she says as she scoops her hair up onto the top of her head, holding it there for long moments while her shirt rides up. Santana stares up at her favorite freckles.  
  
“Is it here yet?”she asks, eyes trained on Brittany's stomach, letting them widen when her arms stretch up above her and show Santana more skin. Her hands reach out and flatten themselves against the ridges of her ribs before she pulls herself to sit up.  
  
Her mouth finds Brittany's skin easily and Brittany hums as she pushes Santana back against the bed, spine buckling again as she hovers above her. Santana pushes Brittany's shirt up around her chest and wraps her mouth around a nipple without warning. Hips buck into hers and she smiles.  
  
“It's...” Brittany breathes out unsteadily. “It's on your desk.”  
  
Santana releases with a pop. Her eyes narrowing, smirk growing on her face. Her hands drift down Brittany's back, her finger scratching at the curve of her hip before she pushes them down the back of Brittany's underwear. With warm hands curving around her backside, Brittany starts to shiver. Santana relishes every second of it as she pushes the fabric down Brittany's legs far enough that she can kick them off beneath the covers. Santana's hands trail up the backs of her thighs, lets her fingers dip between Brittany's legs and find moisture, before she strokes her palms up Brittany's back, tugging her shirt up over her head.  
  
Her own follows it.  
  
“C'mere,” she says softly as she sinks lower down onto the mattress, tugging Brittany forward until there's a knee either side of her head. Her hand reaches around to press against Brittany's back and when she pulls Brittany down for her first taste, she feels the way her spine buckles again and again.  
  
//  
  
She's been pretty much daydreaming about this since Brittany left for Santa Fe. Her mouth moves against her smoothly, her hands stroke and squeeze at perfect curves of soft skin, and her fingers scratch down her thighs occasionally because of the way Brittany bucks into her when she does it.  
  
It's more than she imagined it being, remembered it being, and when Brittany moans and pushes herself off of Santana's face using the headboard, she's ready to cry seconds before Brittany proves to her why she's better than any dream Santana will ever have.  
  
It happens too fast: one minute Brittany's inner thighs are squeezing against her and the next they're not and she's spinning her entire body around until she's facing the other way. Santana blinks in confusion and then Brittany leans forward and starts tugging her own underwear down her legs while her lips kiss at Santana's hips. Brittany parts her thighs and she's sucking greedily before Santana realizes what she's doing. She doesn't think twice before resuming her previous kisses between Brittany's legs.  
  
She comes first, Brittany following too soon after, and Santana chuckles as Brittany collapses against her, cheek resting on her thigh, sighing with happiness.  
  
“Well, that was new,” Brittany breathes and Santana pats her on the ass gently before pressing another quick kiss between her legs.  
  
She lays back down and hums in agreement, head tilting to the side until she can peer down their bodies to see Brittany looking up at her. She smiles when their eyes meet.  
  
“Awesome, though,” she smirks.  
  
Santana grins and rolls her eyes simultaneously.  
  
//  
  
“How's your head, by the way?”  
  
Brittany shrugs and passes her another slice. “I took a couple more Tylenol just before you woke up. It's okay.”  
  
Santana reaches up to brush Brittany's hair from her face and turns her head to kiss her on the cheek. “You should get more sleep,” she says.  
  
Brittany shakes her head and leans her head back to kiss Santana's chin in return. “Don't wanna,” she sighs.  
  
“Why?” Santana drawls out as the show finishes. She hands the remote to Brittany, who takes it and flicks through the channels to find something new to watch.  
  
Brittany shrugs. “Just don't,” she explains. “I missed nine days with you – way more than I should have done – I don't want to waste the last day and a half we have left to be goofy with each other by spending it sleeping.”  
  
Santana tosses her pizza crust back in the box only for Brittany to pick it up and start eating it.  
  
“We're just sitting around, watching TV and eating pizza, Britt Britt,” she says. “I don't mind if you sleep. You'll still be here.”  
  
Brittany shakes her head then shrugs.  
  
“I missed you, is all,” she says sadly. “I didn't like being without you,” she admits with a shrug. “It reminded me of when we were fighting and stuff. I thought you might forget about me or something.”  
  
Santana squeezes her tighter. “Impossible,” she whispers against Brittany's ear. “I couldn't stop thinking about you from the minute you left.”  
  
“I just...” Brittany starts and her face drops a little. Santana reaches up to tilt her head back until she can see her face. She furrows her brow questioningly and feels the way Brittany's shoulders shift with her awkward shrug. “I just don't like leaving you alone,” she whispers. “What if something had happened? What if... what if someone was mean to you, or your Abuela – ” Santana stiffens instantly and blinks in preemptive refusal of any tears that might come. Brittany sees and reaches up to cup her cheek. “That's my job,” she explains softly, tilting Santana's face until their noses squash together. “Protecting your heart and making sure it doesn't hurt is my job, and I hated not being here to do it. You never said anything about what you were doing on the phone while I was away and I knew you wouldn't, so that's why I did all that stupid stuff... so I wouldn't have to worry that you were sad.”  
  
Santana kisses her once. “It wasn't stupid,” she whispers. “And I wasn't sad...”  
  
“You weren't?”  
  
Santana shrugs. “It was weird and everything. My parents asked her if I could visit on Christmas like normal and she said no.” Brittany opens her mouth to say something but Santana shakes her head. “It was okay because I expected it. If she'd said yes, it would have been great but, she didn't and that was okay.”  
  
“So, what did you do?”  
  
“My parents were gonna just... not go,” she explains. “But I couldn't let them do that. I was okay. It was weird missing church and everything, but I don't mind. I don't want to be anywhere I know I'm not wanted.”  
  
Brittany looks at her. “You should have told me. I would have... I would have come back.”  
  
Santana smiles. “And ruin another person's Christmas?” she shakes her head. “I couldn't let you do that for no reason. I was fine.”  
  
Brittany shakes her head and in a second, she's turned around facing Santana, hands wrapped around her cheeks, looking straight at her.  
  
“Why do you still do that?” she whispers softly. Santana looks at her questioningly. “If you're sad, if you're lonely... if you want me to be here... that's a reason. I would have come back.”  
  
Santana takes in a deep breath. “I know,” she nods.  
  
Brittany strokes her thumbs over her cheeks before she turns and resumes her previous position sat against her. Santana's arm wraps around her and they both snuggle closer, just because.  
  
“I'm gonna be where you are next Christmas,” Brittany says after a while. “I promise.”  
  
Santana chuckles. She looks at her for a second before kissing her forehead again. “You're here now and that's good enough for me.”  
  
//  
  
Brittany wanders in and around her room wearing nothing but a pair of snug white cotton panties. Santana stares and knows that she shouldn't be letting herself get used to it, to this much of Brittany's bare skin constantly in her sight. It'll only mean bad things when it's not there anymore. She forces herself to look back at the TV when Brittany wanders back into her room carrying a huge bag of Doritos and some dip.  
  
She can't stop the snort that leaves her.  
  
“Really, Britt?” she mumbles. “You ate pizza like an hour and a half ago.”  
  
Brittany throws the items in her hands into the space beside Santana before climbing over her, nudging Santana's thighs apart until there's enough room for her to lay stomach down between them.  
  
“I'm hungry,” she explains, pulling the bag towards her at the same time she presses a kiss to Santana's stomach. “You wore me out.”  
  
“Then you should get some sleep,” Santana forgets everything else and begins to comb her fingers through Brittany's hair. Brittany rolls her eyes and proceeds to scoop the Doritos into the dip. It stinks of fake nacho cheese flavor and Santana rolls her eyes. She can't complain about it when she always specifically asks her mom to get it in case Brittany's hungry when she comes by.  
  
Brittany giggles as she eats. Santana watches how her fingers move from the bag to her mouth, tongue licking at her fingers. She's pretty sure Brittany can feel all the muscles in the lower half of her body tensing.  
  
“What do you call cheese that isn't yours?” Brittany asks after a moment, mouth crunching around a mouthful. Santana shakes her head that she doesn't know as her hands linger down Brittany's arms. Brittany giggles again. “Nacho cheese,” she tells her around a smile before bursting into chuckles when Santana rolls her eyes and smiles.  
  
“You're such a dork,” she says as Brittany's chuckles turn into full belly laughs of amusement. Santana just watches her, unable to contain her smile, even when she feels the dip drip onto her stomach.“Ugh, Britt...” she winces. “That's gross. Did you bring a napkin?”  
  
Brittany shakes her head as she licks off her fingers and puts the food to the side. Her eyes look around for something to wipe it off with but all there is is Santana's nice clean brand new sheets. Santana glares at Brittany when she reaches to wipe the dip off with them and doesn't even feel bad when Brittany drops them instantly and looks guilty.  
  
It lasts about a second when Brittany takes one more look around the room, just in case, before dipping her head to Santana's stomach and licking the dip off instead.  
  
Santana grimaces for a second but then she feels the warmth of Brittany's tongue through the cold of the dip and her breath catches a little in her throat.  
  
“You sure it's gross?” Brittany teases, pulling back. Santana hisses in response. She doesn't even argue when Brittany blindly reaches for the dip and uses her finger to smear more over Santana's stomach.  
  
It's vile, and Santana knows that she's probably going to have to bathe and shower about twelve times before she's sure she no longer smells like nacho cheese, but Brittany licks over her stomach, and deviates from the job to tease her tongue beneath her underwear, and she can't really care about how gross it is.  
  
“Britt Britt,” she warns when she does it again, lower this time, after she's pulled Santana's underwear down a little. She really doesn't want dip in her lady parts.  
  
Brittany looks up at her and Santana glares at her when she chooses that moment to slip her finger between her lips and clean that off too, tongue swirling visibly around the digit.  
  
“I...” she starts, but she's not really sure how to say no to this and still get what she needs at the same time. Instead, she just breathes out, frustrated at herself. Brittany grins at her and reaches for the dip again and she really wants to say no but Brittany's tongue... and...  
  
She gives up quickly.  
  
But the cold to her stomach doesn't come, just the sound of a lid being reapplied and the crunch of the bag of Doritos as they're thrown off the side of the bed. Santana whimpers because, no. Fine. She'll deal with the dip if Brittany just stays there, except it's being thrust into her hands and she looks down in time to see Brittany pulling the covers over her head with a mischievous smirk.  
  
“Britt, what – ” She trails off when she feels fingers curling around her underwear, tugging. She reaches beside her to put the dip on the nightstand but forgets about it when she feels her thighs being parted some more and a head lowering between them. “Oh...” she whispers dumbly.  
  
Brittany giggles in response.  
  
//  
  
“I think we should just... give up trying to wear clothes,” Brittany says a little while after. She reaches behind Santana's back to unclasp her bra and throws it across the room to reiterate her point.  
  
Santana, too spent to argue, just giggles and rests a hand on the back of Brittany's head as it lowers to her breast.  
  
“That would be awesome but it's getting late,” she husks. “What time do you have to be home?”  
  
Brittany releases her skin with a pop. “I don't know,” she mumbles. “What time are your parents getting back?”  
  
“Tomorrow night. Maybe Tuesday morning. Maybe later if they get stuck in the snow.”  
  
Brittany switches breasts, kissing into her cleavage as she makes her way. “Mom said I had to be home in time for bed on Monday,” she tells her. “So...”  
  
“You don't have to go home?” Brittany barely shakes her head, too wrapped up in her actions. “Wait, do you think we should your parents them that my parents aren't here?”  
  
Brittany looks up at her then, a hand reaching up to make sure her breasts don't go left untended as she speaks.  
  
“Wouldn't you rather spend all tonight and tomorrow having sex?”  
  
Santana's ready to say something responsible, but then she hears Brittany's words and sees her questioning eyebrow quirk and forgets all the words in her vocabulary. Brittany smirks and kisses up her neck.  
  
“Thought so,” she whispers against her lips when she gets there.  
  
//  
  
“Do you want me to wash your hair?” Santana asks as she feels Brittany sinking softer into her body, hands losing purchase with her grip on the edge of the tub.  
  
She nods sleepily and Santana's hands are there to steady her as she sits up in the bath. She keeps her steady with a chin to her shoulder and a strong body against her. Brittany's hands rest on Santana's knees either side of her and she gets that feeling again, the one where she knows she shouldn't get so used to how wonderful or normal this feels.  
  
She lathers her own cocoa butter shampoo into Brittany's hair and is careful of her eyes as she washes it out in the low light of the bathroom. Every time they've done this since the first time, she's laughed at herself for not knowing it was a date. Brittany still insists on the candles, still insists on Santana playing the slow songs in the background, on the damn bubbles and the steaming hot water that makes them sweat. She's never felt less like Brittany's friend than when they're up to their shoulders in warm water, the bubbles melting around them. She always feels more like the person who will always be there to worship her skin and make it clean again.  
  
“Do you want me to wash yours?” Brittany mumbles out quietly.  
  
It's also their most quiet time together. They sink into the water and it feels like it protects them from everything around them, from the worry and the pain. They have nothing to be afraid of in the water and can just hold onto each other. Brittany always falls asleep against her and, if it wasn't for the fact that the water would start to hurt them, urging them to come back another time, she'd probably ask Britt if she wanted to stay there forever.  
  
She shakes her head. “It's okay,” she says softly. “I can do it, Sleepyhead.”  
  
Brittany shakes her head and struggles to turn to face her. She slips a little, Santana steadying her again, until her thighs are wrapped around Santana's waist, her knees digging into her sides a little. Her arms wrap around Santana's shoulders, just because and holds her close for a minute. Santana gets the sponge from the edge of the tub and uses it to scoop water and keep Brittany's shoulders warm. When she feels Brittany drifting off against her shoulder, she says nothing, and just washes her hair herself as quietly and gently as she can.  
  
She doesn't know how to wake Brittany up when they're like this, so she just leaves her there, draped over her body. Her back gets tired, but she leans their bodies together, draping herself around Brittany until the natural forces keep them upright together. Her face buries itself against Brittany's shoulder, deep into her neck and she breathes in, confused to how she can still smell Brittany beneath the shampoo and the bubbles and the soap. She knows she'll never be able to work it out and she doesn't really want to.  
  
There's just some things she's learned not to question.  
  
//  
  
She wraps herself further around Brittany to keep her warm while the water drains away. She wraps towels around Brittany, slowly towel-dries her hair while they're still sitting in the tub. It wakes her up a little and Santana uses the opportunity to get her up and out of the tub.  
  
“I'm awake,” she promises as Santana leads them back into her room. “I'm awake, I'm awake,” she says but her eyes are still closed and her body still heavy when Santana sits her down on the edge of the bed.  
  
She dries them both off and pulls on clean underwear before she finds some for Brittany in the pile of her clothes that sits in her closet. Brittany's soft and sleepy and doesn't argue as Santana clothes her, finding an old sleep shirt and pulling it over her shoulders before forcing her back into the bed so she can fasten the buttons.  
  
Brittany curls into the bed easily and Santana finds her own shirt before slipping into the bed behind her, relishing the rare opportunity she has to be the big spoon. She leans over to look at Brittany's face first and kisses her cheek.  
  
“Sleep tight, beautiful,” she whispers against her hair before she decides against rest and, stays up a while longer to watch her instead.


End file.
